


Do You Even Know How Blackmail Works?

by Anduril_Narsil549



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Blackmail, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cassandra Wayne (mentioned), Fluff, Gen, Hal Jordan (mentioned) - Freeform, Humor, Lucius Fox (mentioned) - Freeform, Maybe - Freeform, Selina Kyle (mentioned) - Freeform, Tam Fox (mentioned) - Freeform, They harass each other, This family is crazy, but they love each other - Freeform, the boys may have bitten off more than they can chew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anduril_Narsil549/pseuds/Anduril_Narsil549
Summary: Blackmail is something each of the Wayne family is used to dealing with. But when Dick Grayson, of all people, puts a new twist on it, blackmail takes on a whole different meaning at the Wayne Manor as things spiral a bit out of control.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 43
Kudos: 399





	1. Roof Talk

Jason happened to like being outside even though the fall day had a bite in the air. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he huffed a breath and watched as the light breeze carried the frozen steam away.

Settling back against the blanket he had laid between him and his chosen backrest--one of the chimneys that hadn't seen smoke rise from it in years--he reveled in the beauty of the morning. Gentle rustle of leaves, fresh air, the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon and bathe the clouds in red and orange. And he got to be _alone._ Somehow, in a manor that was big enough to house five families and still never require they interact with each other, his family always managed to interrupt his peace and quiet.

Muffled footsteps below made him frown. Speaking of interrupting...

Sitting up a bit straighter, he glanced over the edge of the roof and spotted a mop of dark hair. It was bouncing along, turning back and forth, clearly looking for something.

Jason muttered darkly to himself and quickly laid back. He did _not_ want to interact with Dickface right now. Dick was one of those extra strange people who was just as cheery at 6:30 in the morning as midnight. He was neither a night owl nor a morning person he just...was. He could do anything he pleased at any time of the day. Jason didn't even think he had a preference. He really didn't care though.

Because, currently, Dick was about to find him and disrupt his pleasant morning.

Snatching the blanket, he kept low to the roof, steps quiet as he carefully picked his way toward his own window.

Thirty feet...twenty...ten...

"Jay! Hey, Jason!"

With a moan Jason looked at his glorious escape, now denied to him. Turning, he braced himself for whatever Dick wanted. Because, even if he led the man on a merry hunt around the manor, Dick would eventually find him and try to get whatever it was he wanted. Or spam Jason's phone. Or just show up randomly in his apartment some night after patrol.

No, dealing with this now was a much better poison. Option. Whatever.

Jason watched with pursed lips as Dick picked his way over the roof. Just because he was going to get this over with now didn't mean he had to make it easy.

"I'm glad I finally found you," Dick said, stopping a couple steps back from Jason. He rubbed his hands together, then his bare arms. Jason rolled his eyes. Of course Dick would go out on a cold morning in nothing but a t-shirt. His brother hopping turned Jason's eyes downward. No shoes either.

"Here I am, despite your obvious lack of brilliance," Jason griped, tossing the blanket at his brother. Dick caught it with a bright smile and wrapped it around himself. "What is so important you're on my roof?"

"Your roof? I think Bruce owns this place, last I checked."

"Har har, Dickbreath. I'm leaving." He didn't even get the space of a breath before Dick caught his wrist. 

"I...I need a favor." Dick's smile turned sheepish, and Jason turned away so fast he nearly twisted his ankle.

"No. Take care of your own sh--"

"It's for Babs." That made Jason pause.

"Oh?" A slow grin crept across his face as he turned back to Dick. "Really? Let me guess...you forgot you were going to take her to that new Thai place tonight."

The surprise on Dick's face was _so_ worth the effort of stealing the man's phone the other day to take pictures on. And, what can Jason say, he's a younger brother. If he read all of Dick's texts, don't hold it against him. Dick should pick a more difficult password than "Batmobile."

"How did you...you read all my texts the other day, didn't you?" Dick said with a sigh. Jason just gave him a wicked grin. Weariness creased Dick's face as he pulled the blanket closer and said, "Of course you would. But yes, I did. And I also told Bruce I would check the docks tonight."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "And..." He drew out the vowel. "You want me to take your patrol route."

"Would you?" Dick perked up at the suggestion, seeming relieved that he didn't have to ask.

"No," Jason replied flatly. Turning toward the roof's edge, he was about to swing down when Dick's voice stopped him cold, despite the playfulness in it.

"I do still have that picture of you trying ballet with Cass."

Jason's face flushed with heat, even in the chill morning air. Carefully facing Dick again, he said evenly, "The what?" He had thought that the manor had been completely empty the afternoon Cass had tried to teach him some ballet.

Dick dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Tapping it a couple times, he held it out for Jason to inspect.

Jason's stomach dropped three floors from the roof to the ground below. There, nicely framed on his jerk brother's phone, was a picture of Jason in sweatpants and a tank top trying to imitate Cass. She had done a beautiful _grand jete_ , and, Jason, being the _good older brother he was_ , had tried just to see if he could do it to get her to laugh. Unfortunately, he came no where close to being successful, pulled a muscle, and had Cass frowning and shaking her head at him.

And there, on Dick's phone, was proof of his colossal failure. His build wasn't conducive for ballet--he was built like a tank, and made no apologies for it. It was useful for intimidating thugs and mask work in general. However, it was far from useful when trying to do splits midair. The picture told the sad truth of that. His legs looked like he was taking a very long stride, just...three feet off the ground.

He grit his teeth and lunged for the phone. Dick danced back, keeping it out of reach. "It is a pretty bad...what were you trying to do? I can't even tell."

"A _grand jete_ , for your information," Jason bit out, still making grabs for the phone as Dick dipped and twirled away from him. "Which, I suppose, you can probably do," he muttered, lunging once more.

"Uh, duh, I can," Dick replied proudly before adding, "Jay, you seriously think this is the only copy? I have more."

Jason growled at that, but stopped making a fool of himself. Standing glaring at Dick for a moment, he couldn't decide whether he should just tackle the man or turn around and walk away. Because, while the picture was _embarrassing,_ it wasn't _that_ bad. So long as Damian didn't see...

Ok, _that_ would be bad.

"But, if you take over patrol for me tonight, I'll delete this and give you all the other copies."

Jason blinked at Dick, mouth open to retort, before he caught himself. "What?" he asked flatly.

"I'll give you all the copies and delete this," Dick said. Jason's eyes narrowed. There had to be a catch.

"Do you even know how blackmail works?" He kicked himself for the question, because if Dick would just give him all the pictures, just like that...why was he pressing his luck?

Shrugging, Dick said, "Of course I do. I've been blackmailed before. This should just tell you how badly I want you to take this patrol."

"Done," Jason said. What he didn't tell Dick was that if Babs had asked, he would have caved pretty easily, no blackmail necessary. But, in a way, it was a win for him...

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dick again as the man grinned and deleted the picture. "You'll have the others in your room before tonight. Thanks, Jay!"

"You really shouldn't be thanking me considering you just blackmailed me," came the grumbled reply. But his gears were already turning.

Dick might be onto something. Traditional blackmail in this family was a dangerous game, because of the escalation it invited. But _this_ kind of blackmail...even Damian might see the value in it...

This might just be something good.


	2. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason tries out Dick's trick on Damian.

True to his word, Dick left a stack of pictures on Jason's bed.

Why his older brother had twenty copies of _that_ picture Jason didn't really want to know. He found himself glad he had taken the patrol. It was a rather benign night--the docks were quiet, whatever Bruce had been worried about was taken care of. A small price to pay to avert whatever disaster Dick had planned.

That was two days ago. Today, he'd decided to put Dick's trick to the test. His favorite sweatshirt had gone missing, and he was pretty sure the brat had taken it. It wasn't a stretch that Damian had it because it had been Dick's to begin with. Not to mention, it was _comfy._ That's why Jason had taken it in the first place. It irked Jason that Dick had such comfortable clothes they all stole, because that meant he had to often compete for the best items, like right now. If he was being honest, though, what really irked him was that _he himself_ liked the clothes as much as everyone else. Especially since, strictly speaking all of Dick's things were too small for him to wear, so it was a sort of confession that he actually liked Dick well enough to bother stealing his clothes. 

Whatever. It was comfy and that was enough to bother stealing it. At least, that's what Jason told himself.

Striding purposefully down the hall, paper in hand, he reviewed his plan before making it to Damian's room. The sweatshirt for the paper. Clean and simple, a fair swap.

Finding the door opened, he stuck his head in. The room was neat and almost painfully ordered. Damian sat on his bed, his cat stretched out beside him, still save for the small flick of its tail. Sketchbook in his lap, a pencil skimmed over the sheet in quick strokes.

"Brat, we need to talk."

Damian didn't look up. "I hardly think there is anything that _we_ would need to discuss." The pencil flicked a bit slower though.

"Uh huh, whatever. We do, so how about you put that aside and give me your attention?"

"Tt." Much to Jason's surprise, the kid did put the book aside, and turn his eyes toward him. "Whatever idiotic thing you have in your head, spit it out so I can be done with this insult."

"You always know just what to say to make a brother feel welcomed." Jason walked in and plopped himself heavily on the mattress next to Damian, eliciting an irritated noise from him and a complaint from the cat, who ran off.

"Now, I know you have my sweatshirt. I want it back." Jason's tone was nice enough, but laced with older sibling patronizing sweetness.

Damian wrinkled his nose. " _Your_ sweatshirt? I can hardly bear to sit next to you because of your stench. Why would I want to wear one of your items of clothing?"

"Because it used to be Dick's and is disgustingly comfortable. Now, I want it back."

Damian reached for the sketchbook. "I don't have it."

"I have this email that I'm sure Tim would love to see." Jason wiggled the paper in front of Damian's line of sight.

The kid blanched, at least, as much as Damian ever really blanches. "That was personal correspondence! Do you have no decorum or sense of personal boundaries?"

Shrugging innocently, Jason said, "You know this family has no sense of personal boundaries. You really shouldn't leave your 'personal correspondence' up on your computer in the kitchen."

Damian snatched for the sheet, but Jason whipped it out of reach. "Sweatshirt," he demanded.

"Or what? You'll show that to Drake I assume? I refuse to be _blackmailed_ into this." The kid turned away with an affronted sniff that made him seem about five decades older than he was.

"No. I'll give you this sheet for the sweatshirt. A fair trade."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Are you trading...blackmail," he said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "for a sweatshirt that isn't even yours?"

"First, it is mine by right of conquest. Second, with that amendment, yes." Silence extended, and Jason thought he might have won.

The brat finally gave a small shrug and turned back to the sketchbook. "It was honorably meant, and, while I would prefer Drake not know my involvement, I am not opposed to it either."

That wasn't the reaction Jason expected. Flustered, he hid it by clearing his throat theatrically and holding the paper up in front of him. "To the esteemed Miss Ephrata, I write to inform you that your intentions toward my brother--" he began. Damian's head whipped back to him.

"Don't read that out loud," the kid hissed. Jason continued reading over the protest. "--are absolutely deplorable. If you do not cease your advances--"

"Tt, you cow," Damian spat, but he didn't stop Jason from reading more.

"--there will be appropriate and swift action from the Wayne family." Jason scanned the rest of the page and gave a low whistle. "Wow, brat, you really spelled it out for her. No death threats, but, seriously, you gave her no option but to leave Tim alone, did you?" He turned to Damian. "You really don't mind if Tim reads this?"

Flushing, Damian met Jason's eyes stoutly. "He would do the same for me." He crossed his arms, daring Jason to contradict him. 

"Uh huh." While this wasn't how Jason had thought the talk would go--he fully expected Damian to wilt at the first mention of the email--he was impressed at how far his two younger brothers had repaired their relationship. Despite the unexpected, but not unwelcome, development, Jason wasn't ready to roll over yet. He never came to battle with only one option up his sleeve.

"Mk, you win that round." Damian's face shifted just barely into something smug and satisfied. "But, I doubt that you would want Tim, or Dick for that matter, to see your Pintrest board." At this the kid did blanch and his face fell.

"Pintrest board? I don't know what you mean." For the involuntary reaction, Damian's voice was surprisingly level.

"Really? You know, all those kittens and puppies and foals and turtles?" Jason kept his face the perfect picture of polite interest. He watched Damian grit his teeth for a moment, looking out his window. Then, much to Jason's trepidation, he turned triumphant eyes to him. 

"I refuse. I have your music CD from your apartment still. I'll show it to Richard if you show either him or Drake my board. I'm sure he would be overjoyed to know that his atrocious music tastes have worn off onto you." 

Jason felt like facepalming. Why hadn't he thought of that with Dick? Trade all the blackmail until one of them ran out. Outsmarted by a teenager. 

Not that he was about to admit that.

Without missing a beat, he said, "Then I'll trade you the CD for the video of you missing the shot you made with your grapple gun."

Damian sneered. "When? I have never missed one of my shots."

"Two months ago, down by the Narrows. You totally missed that shot."

"Tt, that hardly counts. I was severely sleep deprived. Besides, I still made it to the roof."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't matter, still have you being less than perfect. And, whose fault was it that you were sleep deprived? I seem to recall you were trying to catch a lead on a case without Bruce knowing." What Jason didn't admit was that the miss had nearly caused him a heart attack as he watched Damian helplessly fall for half a second before his second shot hit.

The kid's face contorted a moment in anger. "You're a piece of filth," was the only comment before he got up, walked to his closet, and dug around a bit.

"Give me that sheet, the video, and whatever proof you have of my Pintrest board and I will give you the sweatshirt and the CD." He held up both and raised an eyebrow at Jason.

Jason grinned. Perhaps not the best trade, but he still got what he wanted. And, from the brat's demeanor, Jason wouldn't have any retribution coming his way.

He was liking this.


	3. The Gathering Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

"Freaking research team budget," Tim muttered, looking over a spreadsheet. The R&D department had sent him a few documents to look over and approve a new budget.

Turns out, a few documents was more along the lines of a small book. He had already been working on it for...a quick glance at his clock told him it had been nearly four hours. Suppressing a moan, he rubbed his eyes and looked over the sheet again.

A tentative knock on his door made Tim start. He realized that it wasn't the first knock, which left him wondering how long whoever it was had been standing there.

He was met with a nervous-looking Dick. Flashing a smile, his brother ran a hand over his head. 

"Hey," Tim said by way of greeting, turning back to his work. He typed a bit, making notes about where he thought the budget could be cut, expecting Dick to eventually say something. Silence extended, and he continued working. Frowning, he tried to run a couple calculations in his head, but found that Dick's quiet presence was too distracting.

Turning again to Dick, who was still standing in the doorway, he asked, "Did you need something?"

Dick stepped in, and began pacing. Hands fiddling back and forth, all his motion had the crispness of being closely controlled but begging to be let loose.

"I was thinking," he began, before glancing to Tim. "Do you have time?"

Tim shrugged. He never had time, but if Dick was coming to him this worked up about something, then he could make the time. "Sure."

That earned him a quick smile. "You're the best." He continued to pace, but didn't say anything else. Tim watched him go back and forth a couple times before prompting, "You were thinking?"

"I was thinking. Jay has an interesting new way of blackmailing." Dick winced at the statement. "And it is incredibly effective."

"I take it he's tried it on you too, then?" Tim asked, curious.

Dick snorted and sat in Tim's chair across the room. "He didn't try, he fully succeeded." He paused a moment, and Tim waited expectantly.

"I regret trying it on him first," Dick muttered. Tim's eyebrow shot up. 

" _You_ started this mess?" he exclaimed. "Why in the _world_ would you start something like this with _Jason?_ "

"I needed someone to cover patrol, and he was the only one available," Dick said miserably. 

"I want you to get my bike back to working condition," Tim commented.

"You're bike?" Dick asked wearily. "What in the _world_ did he do to your bike?"

"Wanted my new tires. The tires that _I_ designed and had to have Tam convince her father to make on the down-low. Apparently he liked how they worked and wanted them for his own bike. I told him I'd get him his own set, but six months wasn't good enough for him." Tim frowned. "And now I need to somehow get Lucius to make me a new set."

"That's...huh. He must have had some good stuff on you to get you to give those up." 

Tim felt the heat rush to his face. "Let's just say it was enough to make it a good trade to have all the evidence back," he said flatly. He tilted his head a bit. "He evidently had some good stuff on you too."

"Uh, yeah. Let's not go there," Dick said quickly. "But, tires. I want a piece of blackmail per tire to get Lucius to do them."

Irritation flashed through Tim, and he let it show on his face. While he loved Dick, there were _boundaries_ that had to be maintained. And getting his tires jacked because of a game he started with Jason, that passed a boundary. "Excuse me? You started this mess, and you get to clean it up. No way I'm giving you _anything_ to get this done." He made the statement as much out of honest opinion as self-serving interest. It was a pain to deal with getting new tires, and, as much as it pained him to admit, he didn't have very much blackmail on Dick.

Not that he was about to admit that.

Dick sighed. "No, that's not how this works. You trade me blackmail to get something done."

Mind turning, Tim ran the numbers on how likely it would be that Jason or Damian would give him dirt on Dick. Damian, probably not, especially not to him. But Jason...especially considering how much Tim had on him, he would probably trade some he had on Dick to keep Tim from having it in his arsenal.

"Why would I give you blackmail? It isn't a sound practice," Tim said, biding time so he could think through his strategy.

"Because it doesn't invite retribution," Dick replied. "C'mon, Tim, this isn't even what I came to talk to you about."

"Hold on, I'm getting new tires from you one way or another," Tim said, raising a hand. "How about this. I know that I have some blackmail on you from the gala last year." That is, he knew Jason did. It would be his soon enough. "I'll give you one of the pictures for both tires, and I won't show my other bit to Alfred."

Dick gave him an assessing look. Tim smoothed his face, meeting Dick's eyes resolutely. Finally, his brother narrowed his eyes.

"You're bluffing."

Tim shrugged slightly. "You know I can't bluff worth squat. I never make a plan I can't follow through on."

A moment of silence, then, "No, you're bluffing. What's your other bit you won't show Alfred, and why can't I have it?"

"You can't have it because I'm already being generous giving you the picture from the gala, and the bit is that I have a few dozen pictures of your cereal cabinet from your safe houses and apartments that would absolutely break his heart." He had seen the cabinets at two of the places. It was a logical guess that they all were that way. It was a minor inconvenience that he didn't actually have pictures, but that could be easily remedied.

Dick's face fell. "Tim, you're the _worst._ Why would you do that to Alfred? I mean, he already knows about that, but why would you confirm what he can remain blind to?"

Tim snorted but managed to keep from rolling his eyes. "You think I survived Jason _and_ Damian trying to kill me by being nice? They ruined any hope of me playing nice with you three. Besides, I'm not doing this to Alfred, it's your cereal. Why are you doing it to Alfred?" Tim was pleased with the diversion from the other hole in his plan, that he still needed to get the picture.

His brother's face crumpled, and he felt a bit bad about it, but not bad enough to back down. "Fine. Give me the picture and don't you _dare_ tell Alfred."

"Tires, then you'll have the picture." Tim needed time. He had plenty of blackmail on Jason--14 megabytes of a 16 meg USB stick were devoted completely to Jason, even after trading a bunch earlier this week. He just had to convince Jason that it was worth trading blackmail on Dick for.

"Fine," Dick replied, defeated.

"Great." Tim turned back to his laptop. "What did you actually come in here for?"

"To actually use this...whatever it is," he waved his hand vaguely, "For some good." He paused, seeming to turn his thoughts inward, before looking back to Tim earnestly. "It's time we ganged up on Bruce."

Tim opened his mouth, and found he had no words. Blinking, and blinking again, he finally managed, "What?"

"Do exactly whatever this is, except to Bruce."

"You want to tangle in _blackmail_ with _Bruce_?" Tim shook his head. "Are you kidding me? Bruce trained all of us, he has _loads_ of blackmail each us. And you want to engage him in _that_ battle?" 

Dick smiled sheepishly. "Yep. That's about right."

Turning back to his laptop, Tim said, "You're crazy. No way."

"Tim, the man hasn't slept for a full night in, what, at least three months? You have to help me with this." The whine in Dick's voice made Tim pause. To him, a full night's sleep was something he hadn't had in years. But for Bruce, it was an oddity to not get at least _one_ every couple of weeks.

As much as Tim didn't want to engage further in blackmail, especially with Bruce, he found himself thinking through the possibilities.

"And you propose..." He let the question hang in the air, even though he knew roughly what the answer would be.

"We'll get Jason and Damian on board, and trade however much blackmail it takes to get him to take two weeks off," Dick said quickly.

Tim felt his heart nearly stop. " _Two weeks?_ Are you _kidding?_ Dick, he hardly even takes an afternoon off. How do you expect him to take _two weeks?_ "

The grin Tim received this time was sharp and quite Jason-like. "Because I know I have some good crap on him, and I'm sure you and the other two do as well. Combined, I think we could get close to two weeks out of him."

Tim rubbed his forehead. While he agreed that Bruce needed to take a break, he doubted this was the way to do it. Thinking through the possibilities, he finally said, "If this all comes unglued, you give me _every_ piece of blackmail you have on me."

"What? No way."

A flat look accompanied Tim's response. "Way."

Dick held Tim's gaze for a moment, then said, "Fine. You drive a hard bargain, Timmers."

Surprised but pleased that Dick caved so easily, Tim turned back to his laptop. "Let me know when the other two are on board, and I'll be ready."


	4. Impending Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian try to head off a potential disaster. They find a hiccup in their plan of blackmailing Bruce.

The past twenty-four hours had been interesting, to put it mildly. Tim had managed to acquire the picture of Dick in record time from Jason, taking hardly fifteen minutes to get it. In fact, Jason couldn't hand it over fast enough when Tim showed him the video from two weeks ago of Jason cooing over a litter of puppies and told him he would gladly hand it over to Damian if the picture wasn't relinquished to him. Tim had even managed to get Jason to throw in another piece of blackmail he had without any additional charge.

After that, they had convened a meeting with Dick and Damian to strategize, in which Dick had made it painfully clear there was no backing out, and he would unleash the fullness of his blackmail stock on any who did. Tim balked at that, but decided getting Bruce to sleep would probably be worth sticking this through. He hoped as much, at least.

The meeting also led to Tim's current activity of hunting through computer files for any blackmail he could find in Bruce's possession. The idea was to steal it so they wouldn't need as much firepower to get the two weeks out of Bruce. That said, Tim had spent most of the night and a significant portion of the day combing whatever he could get his hands on of Bruce's files. Dick and Jason had gone through the house for physical evidence, and they had gathered in Tim's room to share what had been found. Minus Damian, anyway, since he was at school.

The tension in the room was palpable. Tim was finishing up, typing, pausing, and typing some more, he ran through the last of Bruce's personal computer files. Eyes flicking over the screen, this was a repeat performance of what he had already done for hours to WE files and any of the files he could get to on the cave's computer.

Dick shifting near him at the foot of his bed made him glance up, and he could see the concern in each of his brother's movements. He quickly looked back to the screen. His own worry gnawed at him more persistently as he came to the end of the files he could access without causing significant issues. Because, while he was all for minimizing risk and finding whatever blackmail Bruce had on them, he also knew where to draw a line. Invading Bruce's most personal things, that was a line he wouldn't cross but for the most dire of circumstances.

This was hardly dire.

Suppressing a sigh as he came up with nothing, he instead rose an eyebrow. Glancing at Dick, who sat next to him, and Jason, who was standing, he said with awe, "This is quite fascinating. He has a whole file on you, Dick."

"What? What does it have in it?" Dick lunged for Tim's laptop, but Tim weaseled it out of reach, stiff-arming his brother. 

Still wrestling Dick, Tim glanced to Jason, who was grinning. "Oh, and Jason...wow, this is an _incredible_ picture."

"Give that to me," Jason snagged the laptop from Tim as Dick continued grabbing for it. Tim didn't try to keep it away. Instead, he just crossed his arms and watched Dick and Jason crowd the screen. Waiting a moment as their faces went from worried to confused, he finally gave the pretense up.

"Relax, you two, there's nothing there." Even as he said it, he couldn't relax himself.

Dick glanced at Tim, then back to the screen. "What? What do you mean 'nothing there'?"

"I mean there is _nothing there_. No blackmail on any of us. Not on the cave computer, his personal computers, or anything at WE."

"I don't believe that," Jason growled. "There is _no way_ that Bruce doesn't have crap on each of us."

Shrugging, Tim said, "If it's on a computer, it's far beyond anywhere I can get to." More like, was beyond where he was willing to get to it, but he wasn't going to bother explaining that caveat. "Likelihood is, it's all on good old-fashioned paper. What did you two find?"

Dick and Jason glanced at each other. "Nothing," Dick admitted as Jason surrendered the laptop back to Tim. "I figured he would have a stash somewhere, or at least little bits scattered through the house."

"You checked the attic?"

"Duh, we're not amateurs, Tim," Jason retorted. Tim just rolled his eyes.

"I have fourteen megabytes of crap that would suggest otherwise for you, Jay," he commented dryly. "What about books in the study?"

"I second Jay, Tim. We're not amateurs. We checked everywhere you would have." Dick rubbed his forehead. "I just can't believe he wouldn't have _something_ on us."

Tim sighed. "He probably does, and we'll feel the heat when we get into this for real."

"I know how you feel about this, Tim, and I've already told you I'll give you what you want if that goes down." Dick's tone had the air of assured older brother, but Tim could hear beneath it the worry that Dick thought Tim might back out of the arrangement, regardless of the threat of Dick's full arsenal of blackmail being unleashed.

Shaking his head, Tim replied, "Fine, whatever. I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe Damian will have a good idea for where to look." Tim looked at the laptop again. Hours and hours spent searching on the cave's computer and on Bruce's personal files for anything that could be blackmail on any of them. Added to that the hours that both Dick and Jay had spent searching for physical evidence today, and it seemed they would have come up with _something_. For most people, that would have been encouraging. Tim wasn't most people. It left a feeling in his stomach that he hadn't felt since the first time he ever used a grapple gun.

It made him incredibly nervous.

"That's true, Damian would probably have some good ideas," Dick admitted. "And, he was surprisingly eager to participate in this...activity."

It was true, the brat had been oddly compliant. Which meant that the three of them had still taken almost half an hour to convince him to do so. But, no blackmail was exchanged, which was a plus.

"You know," Jason began slowly, "I imagine Alfred would have some idea of where Bruce kept any of his blackmail. He does, after all, practically know everything about this family, even the things he has no business knowing."

Tim and Dick stared at Jason.

"You want to bring Alfred into this?" Dick finally asked. "He would put a stop to this so fast it would make your head spin."

Jason frowned. "I suppose so. What if we could just, I don't know, hint at it and get him to tell us?"

"You know how Alfred is. He has a sixth and seventh sense. We'd be shut down before we even got to Bruce," Dick replied.

"Ok, fair," Jason conceded. Plopping himself onto Tim's chair with his feet over one arm, he asked, "So, what's our plan now?"

Dick and Tim glanced at each other. "I suppose we just wait for Damian, and compile all our things," Tim replied. "And decide who the person is we would threaten to give it to if he doesn't agree."

Jason shot him a sharp grin. "Oh, that's easy. Anyone in the Justice League is who we would show it to. Particularly Hal. B would die if we showed any of what I have on him to Hal."

Tim glanced at Dick as he said, "Same." Dick nodded his agreement.

"Alright then, that was easy enough. Just get your evidence together and we'll be set." Tim glanced at each of them. "You do have the evidence ready, right?"

"Easy, Tim, we're not all as manipulative and strategic as you. We have it." Jason good-naturedly jabbed as he dug in his jacket pocket and tossed a pile of paper to Tim. "And now, we wait for the brat."

"I never thought I would be relying on Damian for something like this," Tim muttered. "He better know something, or we are royally hosed." He looked at Dick, then Jason, hoping for some sort of contradiction to the sentiment.

He didn't get any.

**

Tim shut his door heavily, leaning against it with his eyes pinched closed. Taking one, two, three deep breaths, he managed to get his heart rate back to some semblance of not-about-to-rip-itself-apart.

Three sounds echoed in his mind.

Quietest was Jasons muttered curses from two minutes ago.

A bit louder was Dick's heavy sigh that barely preceded Jason's reaction.

And loudest was Damian's, "No, I don't know any other places to attempt searching that you have not already."

Their fates were sealed.


	5. Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient for this update! I just moved 900 miles, so been a bit busy :) This chapter has a bit different of a format, but I hope you all still enjoy!

In the cave, Bruce carefully reviewed the checklist in his hand. It was that time of year again, when the Batmobile needed a thorough once over and tune up. Walking slowly around the vehicle, he absently dismissed the sound of the elevator opening and feet walking toward him. He wiped his greasy hand on his pant leg, frowning slightly at the list. The rear armor plate needed some work, but it was a pain to get off on his own. Maybe Dick or Jason could help him...

"B, we need to talk to you."

Speaking of.

Glancing up, Bruce was mildly surprised to find his four sons all gathered before him. Noting Tim twisting his hoodie strings, Dick shifting his weight in barely contained nervousness, Jason looking anywhere but him, and Damian scowling at the floor, a shot of worry quickly replaced the surprise.

"Of course. What's wrong?" He didn't bother hiding the hint of worry that seeped into his voice.

Dick flashed a nervous smile at him, then glanced at his brothers. "Well, you see...we're all a bit worried about something."

All of them, worried? That sent his own worry through the roof as his brain shifted to overdrive to begin hunting solutions to whatever the issue could be. None of that reached his voice, though. "About what?" he asked evenly, meeting Dick's eyes steadily.

"It is a bit of a sensitive topic, B," Dick continued, wringing his hands, still shifting back and forth. "I don't know if you want to broach this right now." Bruce followed his son's nod to the Batmobile behind him.

"Dick, you know I'll set all this aside if you have a concern." Bruce's mind started compiling a list of possible topics his sons were coming to him about. Maybe their work or schooling? Or mask work. Perhaps some sort of relationship issue...whatever the case, for them _all_ to come to him and explicitly tell him it is a sensitive topic, that was...concerning, to put it mildly.

If possible, Dick's smile got more nervous. "I know, B. I just...It's about..." He ran a hand over his hair, falling silent. Bruce curbed his mounting worry and looked at each of the other three, trying to glean some clue to help him figure out what was going on. They all seemed perfectly content to allow Dick to take the lead.

"Well, to put it bluntly..." Dick glanced at each of them, almost as though he were confirming something. Tim barely nodded at him, Damian turned his scowl up toward him, and Jason stared at him and crossed his arms. Dick turned his gaze back to Bruce with the barest of flushed cheeks and a sheepish grin. 

"About you."

**

Jason watched with a strange mix of blatant anxiety and unabashed amusement as Dick backed the old man into a corner. As much as he would hate to admit it, he was amazed at how easily Dick could maneuver Bruce exactly where he wanted. It made him a bit jealous, in fact. But, for now that was beside the point. He watched the master at work.

 _There's the hook_ , he thought as Dick landed the first blow.

**

Tim, stilling his hand that twisted his hoodie strings, caught the hint of surprise and confusion that flitted across Bruce's face at Dick's statement, imperceptible to someone who didn't know him well, before the man's face smoothed again into an emotionless mask.

"Me?" Bruce asked flatly. "How so?"

The subconscious timer in Tim's head started. Cue Jason in four, three, two...

Jason straightened up and looked Bruce firmly in the eye. "Bruce, when was the last time you had a full night's sleep? Like, an honest eight hours, not just some shuteye that was enough to get you through the day."

Something in Bruce's face shifted just slightly, but enough that Tim could read it for guilt.

"I didn't teach you all observational skills to have you use them against family," came the reply.

"We aren't using them _against_ anyone," Jason commented with a huff. "It was just a question. And, from that response, I take it that not within the past couple months is the answer."

Bruce frowned at Jason. "I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

"Evidently not," Jason retorted. "Considering that _Tim_ has been getting more sleep than you."

Tim winced. _Low blow Jason_ , he wanted to say. Not to mention, Jason's comment wasn't exactly true. 

"What? Tim, you've been getting a full night's sleep? I'm proud of you." Bruce looked to him, and Tim found he had to bite back a rude comment about _Nice deflection._

He didn't have to hold his tongue long before Damian jumped in, right on time. "Father, I believe we have a proposal that, regardless of how much sleep you have been getting, especially compared to Drake, you may find acceptable."

**

Looking to the brat, Jason swallowed the smile that wanted to break out on his face despite the nervousness clamoring at his throat. Next to Dick, Damian couldn't manipulate Bruce into a corner nearly as well, but it was clear that Bruce would weaken under the brat's input.

"We propose you take two weeks off, to rest and...relax. Though your performance has not flagged, we believe it would still be beneficial to your well-being if you did," Damian stated, looking up at Bruce.

"Two weeks?" Jason watched Bruce hesitate, then say, "I can't take that much time off."

"Father, you always tell us to take care of ourselves. You would do well to follow your own advice."

Hesitating again, Bruce spread his arms wide. "I would, but right now isn't a good time for two weeks."

"You totally can, Bruce," Jason commented. "Tim has your whole WE schedule and we've all patrolled with you and know Gotham is quiet. Two weeks is doable."

As Bruce looked between his sons, Jason thought he spotted a hint of desperation in his demeanor. Saying no to all of them had to be hard.

"No," Bruce said, turning back to the Batmobile. Or maybe not so hard.

"Then we have another proposition for you," Damian said, a hint of warning in his voice. Bruce paused.

"Another proposition?" he asked slowly.

_There's the line. Now just the sinker._

**

Dick watched as Damian worked over Bruce, a bit of pride welling up in him. _Those negotiation skills are something that will serve you well, Dami._ He reminded himself to tell his brother that later, but, for now, watched the show go down.

"We propose a trade," Damian continued, stepping closer to his father. "If you refuse to take care of yourself, we will provide sufficient motivation to do so."

"'Sufficient motivation'," Bruce repeated, as though testing the words out. "In what way?"

"We have compiled an assortment of media that we believe you would prefer to not have in the hands of other associates of ours. In particular, we believe you would not desire them in the hands of Hal Jordan."

Dick shifted his weight subconsciously, hoping for a favorable response from Bruce.

It took a moment for Bruce to say anything, but, when he did, it reminded Dick strongly of Tim's reaction when he'd heard the proposal to go after Bruce. "You mean...blackmail?" Bruce paused, then said with a bit of wonder, "You want to _blackmail_ me?"

Damian cocked his head, and said, "If you must use such a vulgar term, yes. But, we propose something slightly different. You take two weeks off, and, not only will we not show our associates the material, but we will surrender all of it to your possession."

"Uh huh," Bruce replied. Dick smiled wide when Bruce's gaze turned to him. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

"You have no idea," Tim muttered from behind him.

Bruce was silent a moment, before saying, simply, "No."

"Bruce, I think you may want to reconsider when you see what we have on you," Tim commented, stepping forward.

 _Excellent timing, as always, Tim,_ Dick thought as his brother held out his laptop to Bruce.

"Review that and let us know if you change your mind," Tim added. Bruce accepted the computer with a glance filled with what Dick knew well to be betrayal.

Shifting again, Dick glanced at Tim. This was it. Doom could soon descend.

**

Bruce took the laptop and sat at the large desk that the Batcomputer was on. Scrolling slowly, he reviewed the conglomeration his kids had collected.

Much to his disgust, consternation, and (somewhat) pride, they had managed to actually get some interesting dirt on him. Some of the pieces he could peg who likely contributed them. Others he was shocked to even see them on the screen. A picture of his "recently watched" list on Netflix, including _Mean Girls_ , _Legally Blonde_ , and _Pretty in Pink_ ; a picture of his Goodreads list, which had an assortment of books that other members of the League had recommended to him; a picture of his Spotify account (he really had to teach his children boundaries) with music like Lady Gaga and the Spice Girls (hey it's good workout music, ok?); the video of him after he got a tooth repaired but was still high on anesthesia ( _Thanks, Dick_ ); a video of him accidentally getting drunk at a gala, because all the drinks were supposed to be non-alcoholic, and someone messed _that_ up big time ( _Thanks, Jason, for that video_ ); a picture of him as Batman with a cat rubbing against his cowl ( _Damian, probably_ ); and a whole list of his anonymous Tweets about current fashion designs.

Staring at the screen after he finished looking through the dirt, he mulled over his options. He truly didn't want Hal to have any of that, but a couple were especially cringe-worthy to have public. That would mean that not only would _Hal_ have it, but the _entire_ League would know about it in some way or another. Or he could give in to his kids, take two weeks off (which, he had to admit, he _could_ actually do right now, but he was a workaholic, so he didn't want to), and totally encourage them to do this _again_. That would be a nightmare. Or...

"I have a counter-proposal," he said, looking up to his kids. Tim veritably cringed at that, Dick's face got pale as a sheet, and Damian and Jason both tensed. Frowning slightly at their reactions, he asked, "Are you all ok?"

**

Jason's teeth were clenched so tight he was surprised he didn't have a migraine yet. As soon as Bruce said he had a counter-proposal, he knew this was truly the point of no return.

"Yeah, fine," Dick replied, amazingly assured.

Bruce frowned a bit deeper, but said, "I propose one piece of blackmail per day." Tension drained from Jason's body, relief filling him in a wave. He nearly missed Bruce's next words. "You have eight here. One is hardly blackmail, considering the League suggested all those books to me on my reading list. That leaves you seven, one per day."

_Huh, half a sinker. Didn't really expect that.  
_

"One week?" Dick glanced at all of them, and got small shows of _That call's up to you._

"One week?" A new voice made them all turn in a way that clearly showed they were doing something their visitor would disapprove of.

 _That had been going well. Got to seal the deal somehow..._ Jason's mind turned over how to finish their negotiations but leave Alfred in the dark.

"Hey, Alfred," Jason said as the old man approached. "Just trying to figure out some logistics." 

Raising an eyebrow, Alfred glanced between all of them, eyes settling finally on Bruce. "I believe that is usually in my wheelhouse."

They all glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed and not be rude. Damian speaking up shocked Jason. More, it was what he said that shocked Jason.

"We are attempting to get Father to take two weeks off. He was unwilling to do so with our initial request, so we are defaulting to more...coercive methods." The brat looked up at the old man, eyes sharp. "He has conceded a week to us. However," he now turned to his father, "we all know that one week is scarcely enough for him to begin adequately resting."

They all, save Alfred, stared dumbly at Damian. Jason suppressed a moan. _Why did you just let Alfred in on that?_

Another eyebrow raised, Alfred fixed Bruce with a look. "I believe two weeks is doable. But, 'coercive methods'? What ever do you mean?" His tone clearly showed he knew exactly what they meant.

"We are not blackmailing, precisely," the brat replied. "We are trading our material. Currently, the offer stands at one piece per day."

Alfred fixed Bruce again with another look, one that no one save Alfred would dare fix either Bruce or the Batman with. "Is that so?" Thoughtful, he fell silent for a moment. Jason held his breath, expecting to get shut down any moment.

"I believe," Alfred said slowly, "I have a picture, something to do with a bullfrog and a New Year's party from the time you were a teenager--" Jason's jaw nearly fell off as Alfred joined their bandwagon. Glancing at the other three, he saw his own reaction mirrored in their faces as Alfred completely took the reins on their effort.

"Alfred, seriously? You still have that picture?" Bruce's voice was painfully close to a whine.

"Indeed I do."

"And I assume you'll show it to these four?" Bruce sighed. "It could be worse. I'm giving you all a week, and that's it."

"Master Bruce," Alfred said evenly, "I believe you are getting ahead of yourself. I won't show it to your children--" Jason was disappointed by that-- "but to Miss Kyle."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"You wouldn't," Bruce finally said.

"I certainly would. Now, you will take that second week off, and you will have the picture."

There was another moment of silence, but not nearly as long, before Bruce finally deflated. "Fine. Two weeks."

Alfred brightened. "Splendid. I'll make all the arrangements."

Sharing a shocked look with his brothers, Jason couldn't believe it.

 _Hook, line, and the full sinker._ And doom didn't come to call.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy this last bit!

The cave was quiet, the coolness chilling Bruce's bare skin to a comfortable temperature. He'd been down here for over an hour, and, incredibly, had not been interrupted yet. Which was most welcome as he slowly emptied the contents of an old shoe box onto the desk by the Batcomputer. He grabbed another handful, the fourth so far.

Bruce carefully removed the top picture, revealing the one beneath. He sat it aside, staring at the newly revealed picture. Still for a moment, he removed another, then another, the small smile that had settled on his lips tugging more insistently as he continued going through the stack.

The elevator opened and footsteps sounded through the cave. Glancing up, Bruce found Alfred striding purposefully toward him.

"We are to leave in half an hour, Master Bruce. Do you require anything before we go?" The old man stopped near Bruce's shoulder, looking at the pictures on the desk.

"No, Alfred, thank you," Bruce replied distractedly, eyes on the newly revealed shot. It was a picture of Jason the first time they had gone to the zoo. The boy's eyes were the size of saucers the whole time, wonder filling them.

They were silent for a bit, Bruce continuing to flip pictures, Alfred watching with keen eyes.

A smile finally broke across Bruce's face, and he held up a picture for Alfred to look at more closely. "I think this was our last vacation we took as a family." Clearing his throat against the lump forming there, Bruce brushed his thumb over the picture of him, Alfred, and the four boys on a camping trip in the Rockies. Despite the heat, mosquitoes, and occasional bickering, Bruce cherished every moment of the trip. He'd managed to spend time with each of them individually, and they all rode the high of a good trip for weeks after. Most notably, Damian and Tim fought less, and Dick and Jason stuck around the manor during their free time rather than disappearing back to wherever they usually spent all their spare moments.

Alfred reached for the picture, and Bruce surrendered it to him, looking at the next one in the stack.

"Indeed, Master Bruce. That was far too long ago." Alfred handed it back, and added, "I'm glad you agreed to this trip, even though it was through...less than ideal methods."

"Hn," Bruce replied, unsure of how to respond to that.

The elevator opening made both men turn just as the familiar sound of Babs' wheelchair crossing the threshold met their ears.

"Babs," Bruce said by way of greeting.

"Bruce, Alfred." She joined them at the table, and her eyes quickly took in the scene.

"Thank you for watching the place while we are away," Alfred said.

"Of course, Alfred. Anything for you." She reached for a picture, and Bruce caught the beginning of a smirk crossing her face.

"So _this_ is all the blackmail the boys were worried about." Her eyes roved over the pictures laid out on the table, details getting consumed and catalogued for a later date.

Frowning, Bruce glanced at Alfred, then back to Babs. "Blackmail? These are just family photos."

She gave him a funny look, picking one up. "Really? Because a picture of Tim wrecking Jason at water polo is definitely not something they would consider blackmail." Picking another, she added, "And Damian sleeping on top of Tim and Dick, _that_ would never be blackmail."

"What are you driving at?" Bruce asked, voice clipped as he kept his irritation in check.

"Just that I'm impressed you didn't pull one over on them by trading all these to keep from being bullied into this trip." Setting the pictures down, she met his guarded look. Frowning, she said, "Wait, that never occurred to you? To trade blackmail? Damian apparently thought of it right off the bat, according to Jason."

"I don't keep blackmail on my children." Lips pursed, he wondered what he'd done to make his children expect to be blackmailed by him. Making a mental note to look into it later, he glanced at Alfred. The man had a similar expression on his face.

"I believe that must have something to do with why Masters Richard and Jason were all about the manor yesterday," Alfred said slowly. "They were quite evasive about the whole thing." Glancing at Barbara, he asked, "Were they looking for something like this?"

Hands in the air, she replied, "Don't pull me into the middle of this, I've snitched enough on them." Turning her eyes back to Bruce as she began wheeling away, she said, "Though I hope you know I'm going to take full advantage of this tactic in the future, now that Dick has started it."

A small sigh escaped Bruce as he watched her wheel back to the elevator. "I have no doubt," he said as the doors closed.

The look on Babs' face solidified the truth of that statement.

"I suppose I had better put these back in your office," Bruce commented after a moment of silence. He paused, then added, "I expect that's why Dick and Jason didn't find them. They respect you too much to go through your things."

Raising an eyebrow, Alfred said, "I suspect you're correct. Though I do hope you will try to make amends for whatever led them to believe they needed to go through your things to begin with." 

Replacing the pictures, save one, in the box and putting the lid on, Bruce tucked the bulk under his arm. "I will, Alfred." This trip was a perfect opportunity, and he intended to make full use of it.

He looked at the picture in his hand, of the six of them in camping gear. Perhaps he should take a few more breaks. Then his family wouldn't feel the need to force him into it, and perhaps he could avoid them expecting blackmail from him. And, perhaps, they might make some more good memories.

Smiling slightly, he slid the picture into his breast-pocket. 

"Alfred, did you pack the camera?"

"Indeed, Master Bruce," the man replied as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Good," Bruce said, shifting the box. "I think we'll want it."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I'm still new at writing these hooligans so would love to hear any feedback or suggestions :)


End file.
